


To Whom With All Submission on My Knee

by JDSampson



Category: Project Blue Book (TV)
Genre: Angst, Classic Cliches, Dubious Science, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Getum, Gun Kink, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 04:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18491563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JDSampson/pseuds/JDSampson
Summary: The boys fall into trouble again when they meet two young women who need Hynek's help to contact their spaceman cult leader.





	1. Houston, we have a problem.

**PBB : To Whom With All Submission on My Knee**

(Tried the songs and I’m back to my favorite Shakespeare quote titles)

 

_To whom with all submission on my knee,_

_I do bequeath my faithful services_

_And true subjection everlastingly._

_\--- Shakespeare’s King John_

 

The door was ajar. Not much but just enough to put Quinn on the alert. He pressed himself back against the wall of the house and looked in through the narrow opening. He saw a chair on its side and that was enough to say something was wrong.

He turned his head toward Hynek behind him and harshly whispered. “Go wait by the car.”

“No.”

Simple and concise and a razor on Quinn’s last nerve.

“I am done playing this game with you!” He snapped in a low, throaty whisper through clenched teeth. “You will go when I say go and stay when I say stay. So, get your ass back to that car and stay there until I clear the house. Do you understand me, Hynek!”

Allan’s resolved faded into a hurtful frown, more from the use of his last name than the entire length of the message.

Fine. Whatever got the job done. And it worked. He left the porch and went to the car without another word. It was overly harsh, but it had been a long week of the Professor speaking when he’d been warned not to, touching what shouldn’t be touched and generally barging in where angels fear to tread, leaving Quinn scrambling to pick up the pieces left in his wake.

The incident in Tempe had resulted in a close call that still had Quinn rattled but the two cases after that were just more wild plover chases. Their case load had tripled in the past few months, thanks in part to the Hollywood movie machine and that damned science fiction magazine offering prize money for proof of alien life.

Quinn had arrived at this house in woods, sure that it was another bogey, but at least this one had two cute sisters in the mix. At least that’s what he pictured after talking to Celeste on the phone. She sounded sweet, and soft and anxious to have a military man come save her from the spaceman who liked to peek in her window at night.

Now, with the door ajar and the tipped over chair. . . . Quinn wished he had strapped on his gun for this one.

He laid his arm flat against the door and slowly widened the opening. Nothing else appeared amiss. He took a step inside, one hand warning Hynek to stay back – just incase the jolt from his original order was wearing off.

The room was a combination living room - dining room with a door on the back wall that likely led to a bedroom or a kitchen. The house wasn’t very large. A single-story structure with rustic appeal.

Quinn filled his lungs then stepped quickly around the door. In an instant he took in the rest of the room. A desk and chair. A short bookcase with an ornate lamp on top. A rocking chair and an overstuffed couch with a woman crumpled over the arm. Her face was hidden by a river of long, straight, black hair. She was tucked in on herself like a child who thinks she can hide from the monster by simple curling into a ball.

One step closer and he saw that she was shaking.

“Celeste?”

The timid little ball unfolded into a lithe, young woman. Dark eyes, ruddy cheeks, pale narrow lips and a revolver in her hand.

“Whoa! Easy now.” Quinn put his hands out in front of himself, palms up, elbows bent. “I’m Captain Quinn, from Project Blue Book. You called me. Or your sister called me. The door was open, I thought someone might be hurt so I came in. I’m here to help, so you can put the gun down.”

The girl slid off the couch and stood to her full height. She was tall and all leg and arms. She was still shaking, and the gun was still pointed in his direction.

Poor thing must have been through something awful to be this frightened.

“Are you armed? Take your coat off. Show me,” she said in a soft, wispy voice that wasn’t at all the one he’d heard on the phone. Must be the sister.

“Not armed.” He smiled his most charming smile as he slowly undid the buttons of his suit coat, careful to keep his hands in full view. “Your sister told me about the spaceman whose been lurking around your windows.” He tipped his chin down and raised his eyes in a slightly suggestive, slightly flirty maneuver. “I can hardly blame him. Where he’s from, they probably don’t have pretty girls like you.”

The coat came off and he tossed it over the nearby desk chair. “Like I said. Not armed.”

The gun was still aimed at his chest and he was starting to get pissed about it. Try to help a person. . .

“Get on the floor.” She motioned downward with the gun as if he might not understand her words. “On your stomach.”

Quinn held on to the smirky bit of his smile as his brain raced ahead to figure out what was wrong here. “I don’t think so. Just had this suit cleaned and pressed and no insult to your housekeeping skills but the floor looks kind of dirty.”

“I’ll shoot you,” she said, voice shaky and not too believable.

Quinn took a step closer. “Again, I say, I don’t think so.”

“Then how about I shoot him?”

Quinn turned toward the new voice and the smile instantly turned to the cold, hard sneer that had the power to make grown men cower before him.

Only this was a grown woman and she had a gun to Allen Hynek’s head.

Quinn allowed himself only a moment of eye contact with his partner. He could see the deep fear in Hynek’s eyes and if he took that in, he wouldn’t be able to keep his cool. And cool was definitely the order of the day here.

“Celeste?”

“That’s me.” She was taller than the Professor by a few inches. More muscular than her sister, with the same black hair, only hers was wild with curls. She had Hynek by the back of the collar with the gun pressed against the back of his head. “You must be Quinn.”

“That’s me,” he echoed. “Now that you know who we are, put the gun down.”

It was as if she didn’t even hear him.

“My sister told you to get on the floor. Now follow orders like a good little solider.”

“We came to help you,” Hynek said, frustration and fear choking off the end of his sentence.

“And help us you will. But first we have to make sure your Captain doesn’t get any heroic ideas.” Celeste moved the gun around to the front and pressed it up under Hynek’s chin forcing his head back with the pressure. Quinn tried to make eye contact again, to signal him to stay calm, that it would alright, but Hynek had closed his eyes.

Every muscle in Quinn’s body was taut and on high alert. Jaw and fingers clenched. Chest so tight he could hardly breath. It was not going to end like this! Not at the hands of two women and that was when his brain told the rest of his body that they’d walked into a trap. Stupid.

Quinn lowered himself to his knees. “How about a little give and take? You point that gun somewhere else and I’ll get on the floor. Just don’t want any accidents.”

“That sounds reasonable.” She lowered her hand, aiming the gun slightly down and off to the side.

Hynek brought his head back to center, opened his eyes and it looked like pure relief when he exchanged glances with Quinn. Not out of the woods yet, partner. Quinn had a horrible feeling he knew where this was going but he didn’t have a clue how to stop it.

One moment at a time. Survive the next moment and the one after that. And you keep on, one moment after another watching for chances, being ready for any break. His commanding officer had taught him that during the worst day of Quinn’s young life. And he’d taught him one other thing; if you’re going to make it out alive, you must be prepared to die. Once you accept death, the enemy has no power over you.

Quinn could do that. Could mentally put himself in that space, but he wasn’t prepared to watch Hynek die. That’s why he was always after him to be careful, to be quiet, to stay put when things went south. Not that that had worked so well in this case.

Resigned but royally pissed, Quinn laid down on cold, dirty floor.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

God damn it! He was shaking, which Celeste probably took as fear, but it was actually pure, seething anger. He did as he was told, slapping the back of one hand in the palm of the other.

“There’s a good little solider. Luna –”

The sister.

Quinn’s head was turned so he couldn’t see her, but he heard her move across the room. Assumed she was approaching him to tie his hands behind him. She never got close.

Celeste gave Hynek a shove in the back. “Catch, Doc.”

A length of clothesline flew across the room and smacked Allen in the chest. The grab was automatic but once he had it, he reacted as if he was holding a coiled snake. He didn’t need instructions.

“No. I’m not going to help you. You obviously brought us here for a reason, so you need us. Which means you won’t kill us.”

Quinn felt a little proud papa moment there. Look at you, smart and tough.

“That’s sort of true. I do need YOU,” she poured the words in to Hynek’s ear. “And I need him to make sure you do what you’re told. So, you’re right. I can’t kill either of you but—” She lifted the gun and aimed it at Quinn.

He scrambled back, on to his butt and hands. It was no protection from a bullet, but his body and his mind weren’t communicating very well.

“I can shoot him in the leg which will also keep him from interfering, so if you’d rather.  . . . “

“No. No, shooting.” Again, Allen made eye contact with Quinn begging for some signal as to what to do. There was only one thing he could do - -  whatever it took to survive this moment.

“It’s okay,” Quinn said, softly, deeply; nodding for Hynek to come closer.  “Good little solider,” he muttered. Then he laid down flat again with his hands behind his back. One side of his brain wanted to fight it but good. Restrained brought back some very, very bad memories. But the other side said, it’s temporary. You’ve made it out of worse. You’ll make it out of this. Flex your muscles while he ties the knot. That’ll give you some room to move. Thank you, Houdini.

Hynek dropped to one knee beside him. “Michael—”

“What’s that, revenge for me calling you Hynek, Doc? Just do what she says for now and we’ll figure this out.”

“I should have been more aware. . . when you sent me to the car, I was annoyed, and I was in my own world. . . like always.”

“Beat yourself up later. Let’s get this done.”

Quinn filled his lungs and centered himself, pushing that bad memory – panic part of his brain down into the mud while concentrating on the part of his brain that allowed him to fly a complex fighter jet while strapped down tight inside a tiny cockpit. Easy.

It took Allen longer than it should for such a simple task, likely because his hands were shaking. Quinn wished he could take some of that weight off his partner’s shoulders but he was using all he had left in the tank to keep himself on point.

After he felt the final tug, Quinn tentatively tested the bonds and they were solid. Good old, Boy Scout training. He rolled to his hip then back to sitting. “Now what?”

“Now, Doctor Hynek sits down at the desk.”

That was easy enough. Allen pulled the chair back and sat. His eyes briefly took in the mass of papers on the desktop but then shot right back to his partner.

Celeste took hold of Quinn by the bicep and dragged him from the center of the floor to a spot against the wall.  He made no attempt to lighten the load but damn she was strong.

“I could stand up and walk, you know.”

“No need.” She left him in an empty spot to the right of the desk. Smart. Just inside Hynek’s peripheral vision as he worked. A subtle reminder of what was at stake if he didn’t do as he was told. Still wondering what that was all about. . . 

Celeste stooped down to Quinn’s eye level then touched the barrel of the gun to his temple. She waited for the flinch, but he didn’t allow it. Kept his composure even still as she ran the gun down the line of his jaw. “If you can behave yourself for a few hours while Doctor Hynek works, no one gets bloody. If not. . . “

He leaned as close to her as he could locking eyes and dropped his voice into an even lower register. “You hurt him; I’m going to make you eat that gun.” He saw the first glimmer of concern in her eyes. So, there was a human being in there under all that bravado. He leaned back against the wall. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just sit here and listen.”

 

#  #  #

Before joining Project Blue Book, Allen Hynek had never had a gun pointed in his direction but now that event was becoming way more common than he was comfortable with. Shotguns aimed in the general direction were bad enough but handguns to the head. . . that was a different story.

Thomas, the man in the office who claimed he’d been abducted was desperate but not mean spirited. His handling of the gun was fumbling and inexact. A man just trying to regain some control over his life.

Celeste, on the other hand, was totally in control and a bit too attached to the deadly weapon she was wielding. The way she’d pressed it against his chin. The way she stroked it along Quinn’s face. It was a hundred times more frightening than a wild man waving a gun in the office.

Part of that was Celeste but part of that was Quinn. He’d done all he could to protect everyone in the room that day; himself, Faye, even Thomas and his wife. Now it was up to Allen to protect his partner and that was scarier than having a gun to his head.

“Before the end of the week, Deimos must return to Earth.”

“Deimos?” said Quinn. “Where’s he coming from? Hell?”

“Demios is the name given to the smaller and outermost of Mars’ two moons,” Hynek said, unable to help himself.

“Demios,” Luna said from her corner of the room, “is my lord and master. He’s coming here to wed me and then we’ll return to his home planet to rule.”

“Oh Christ,” Quinn moaned. “She’s crackers.”

That earned him a slap in the face from Celeste.

“You will not speak about her that way. Better idea – you will not speak at all.” She turned back to Hynek so abruptly that he startled knocking several papers from the desk to the floor.

Celeste tucked the gun into the waist band of her slacks, then stooped down to pick up the pages. She plopped the pile down in front of Allen. “Do you know what this is?” She dropped a sketch on top of the pile. It looked vaguely like a radar dish with dotted lines radiating upward to the edge of the page. Before he could answer, she plucked another paper from the pile and put that one on top. “What about this?”

That one he knew. “It’s a star map. Hand drawn, crude and not 100% correct but close. Did you draw this?”

“No. This is my brother’s work.” And that was the softest, most non-confrontational thing she’d said since getting the drop on him at the car. “He was a student of yours for a while, until we couldn’t afford to pay for his schooling.”

“A student of mine? What’s his name?”

“Neirin,” said Luna. “It means ‘surrounded by light’.” She wandered over to the lamp on the bookcase and stared down at the lit bulb inside the shade.

“Neirin,” Allen repeated. “I can’t picture him and that’s surprising because this is high-level thinking, way beyond what any of my students can do. So high-level that I’m not sure I’m grasping the full nature of his work. What was he trying to accomplish?”

“He was trying to trailblaze the universe.” Celeste chose another paper from the mess on the desk and handed it to Hynek. “Creating a celestial roadmap for Deimos to follow.”

“Wait,” now it was Quinn who couldn’t help himself. “Space Prince has been here before but now he can’t find his way back without a map? Confirmation that there is no intelligent life out there.”

Celeste turned on Quinn again, but Allen pulled her back with a loud and purposeful shuffle on the papers on the desk. “So, this radar set up is supposed to project a beam of light –”

“Light, yes,” Celeste gave him her full attention. “It bounces off the planets and the moons like one of those trick shots on a pool table, until it reaches Deimos’ home planet.”

More shuffling of papers. This time she handed Hynek a image torn out of a text book. “This is where he’s from. The Cigar Galaxy.”

Quinn scoffed. “Oh yeah, right next to the Whiskey Galaxy.”

“The Cigar Galaxy was named for its cigar-like shape.” Hynek held out the photo for Quinn to see. “Its official name is Messier 82 or M82. It’s about 12 million light-years away so any craft coming from this galaxy would have to have an incredibly advanced propulsion system or the ability to move through that ‘hyperspace” they’re always writing about in science fiction magazines. And if your . . . friend. . . had such an advanced ship, it’s unlikely that he’d need simple light markers to make his way back here—”

“But it’s possible,” Quinn said loudly and pointedly. “Doc, I’m sure if you took some time to thoroughly review Neirin’s notes, you’d understand.”

After a year together, Hynek was usually adapt at reading his partner’s glances and secret signals but this one wasn’t getting through. He knew Quinn was trying to tell him something. Trying to pass along an important message but what?

“I got time,” said Quinn.

Oh! Stall! That’s what he was trying to say. Stall for time. Pretend to go along until a way out presented itself.

“Yes, of course. I should know better than to jump to conclusions. When Charles Jenkins published his article ‘Motion Pictures by Wireless’, everyone thought that was fiction but now we all have television sets in our living rooms.” Allen began stacking the pages, neatening the desk. “It’s probably because the pages are all out of order. I just need a little time to review everything and make some notes.”

“And then you’ll be able to do it,” Celeste prodded. “Build the mapping system? Guide Deimos back to us?”

 

 

Say yes, Doc, say yes. Quinn whispered the words over and over inside his head, as if willing it would make it so.

“Yes,” said Allen. “If I have the proper equipment, I should be able to follow your brother’s notes.”

That a boy. Buy some time. Win them over. Gain a little trust.

Now all he had to do was get loose. He’d been working at it since he’d hit the wall with little success. There was some wiggle room but not enough to pull free of the clothesline loops. Since he was leaning against a blank wall, there was nothing he could use to saw through the rope. That only left the option he’d started with – twisting and tugging until his wrists were bloody and the rope was tired. That would take time, which is why he needed the Professor to stall for it.

The other thing he had to do was keep track of the players.

Luna was back on the couch. Lying down now with her head on a pillow, eyes focused on the ceiling. Her gun was on the coffee table about two feet from her hand. Even if he was free now, she’d be on it before he could get to it. Unless, of course, she fell asleep on the couch.

But that didn’t solve the Celeste problem. She was a wild card. The waistband of her pants wasn’t designed to hold a handgun, so he hoped she’d tire of the extra weight and put it down on the desk or on the bookcase.

It could happen. If the Professor could gain her trust, get her involved in the build, she might forget they were enemies and put her weapon aside. It was a long shot but possible.

At the moment, Celeste was hovering behind Hynek’s chair, her hands on his shoulders. It was making the Doc nervous and that wasn’t good for any of them.

“Where is brother Neirin?” Quinn asked, hoping to draw her toward him. “Why isn’t he here to finish what he started?”

“He’s gone. The traitor. He never liked Deimos. He only started work on the mapping project because he thought Phobos was coming, too. He was in love with her but Deimos said no sister of his was going to merge with an Earthling, so Neirin got in a huff about it and said if that’s how it was going to be, then he wasn’t going to finish the beacon and it would be okay with him if Deimos ended up totally lost in space.”

Quinn took that all in, blinked a few times, knew he shouldn’t but did it anyway. “You are batshit crazy. Did you know that?” He tensed, expecting another slap or a gun in his face but neither happened. Instead, Celeste straddled his outstretch legs and then sat down on his thighs. She plucked the gun from her waistband and this time he did flinch a little but instead of pointing it at him, she laid it heavily in his lap. She was good.

“I would be terribly upset with you for all the mean things you’ve been saying but I understand.” She walked her fingers up his tie and began undoing the knot. “I know that all the sarcasm and attempts at humor are a defense mechanism, covering up the fact that you’re afraid you’re going to die today.”

“Nope,” he shook his head while doing his best to ignore her exploring fingers. “I know I’m going to die today, there’s no other possible outcome. You’ve kidnapped an officer of the United States Air Force. There are only two ways you can avoid getting punished for it; one is to hop in your friend’s space ship and leave the planet. I can guarantee that’s not going to happen. The only other option is to kill me and hope no one ever comes here looking. Today, tomorrow – I’m dead. I’ve made my peace with that.”

She locked her eyes on his, diving deep to see if he was telling the truth. He held her gaze, lowered his voice. “What is bothering me, is the fact that you’re going to have to kill the Professor, too. That you’re going to deprive the world of the one man, the genius who could actually get us into space. Maybe at a time when we really need to go because the US and Russia are in a pissing contest that will end in double mushroom clouds. Then you and your sister will be here wasting away from radiation sickness because you murdered the one man who could save you -- save us all.”

Now it was her turn to flinch. Good.

The downside? If Hynek had heard the words, he was probably about to lose his shit and Quinn felt bad about that. He had done his best to speak softly; for Celeste’s ears only but the Professor was only a few feet away. Quinn wanted to glance over to see for himself but wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of being the first to blink.

It was Luna who unexpectedly put an end to the match. “Stop playing around! We only have two days and Doctor Hynek can’t focus on his work if you keep threatening his friend.”

Voice of reason. Who knew?

Celeste blinked first but to make up for it, she purposely lifted the gun off his lap in such a way that the tip of the barrel scraped against a very sensitive area. She pushed up to standing, tucked the gun into her waistband again and hovered for another few seconds before stepping away.

When her back was to him, Quinn allowed himself to shift his gaze to Hynek. The man was sweating and the deep concern in his eyes told Quinn that he had heard most, if not all of the verbal sparring.

“It’ll be okay, Doc. Just work on the problem.” He hoped Hynek would catch the double meaning in that sentence, but he wasn’t sure. With all the time they’d worked together, they’d developed a sort of shorthand form of communication. But when it came right down to it, Hynek was still a college professor with no combat training and little experience dealing with an enemy force. Quinn had taught him a few things; taught him how to handle a gun and shoot relatively straight, basics of self-defense but it wasn’t in Hynek’s nature to fight – with words, yes, but physically no. And if it ever came down to having to kill or be killed, Quinn wasn’t sure his partner would be able to pull the trigger. Especially if the person on the other end of the gun was a young woman.


	2. To Hell in a Handbasket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Quinn out of commission, it's up to Hynek to come up with a plan.

Allen tried very hard to put Quinn’s speech out of his head and pay attention to his “work” – not the beacon project of course, but the job of finding a way out of this mess. He hadn’t had much time to study Neirin’s notes but he was already fairly sure that the science behind it wasn’t sound. Still, he hadn’t been lying when he said it was high level thinking. Whomever had come up with the idea was on to something – something new and potentially groundbreaking – but it wasn’t there yet.

How could Allen have missed such a brilliant young man in his classroom?  Yes, he had a lot of students, but this kind of thinking was incredibly rare. And then he realized that he was getting drawn into the wrong puzzle again and it was time to put his own plan into action.

He coughed forcibly, then cleared his throat. “Could I have a glass of water?”

“I’ll get it,” Luna offered then disappeared through the door to the left of Quinn.

“What was Neirin planning on using to power the beacon?” Allen asked, still partially sucked into the diagrams and notes. “Is this a generator?”

“Yes,” said Celeste. “It’s out in the garage with the machine. When you’re ready, I’ll take you out there so you see can what you have to work with.”

Allen didn’t like the idea of disappearing into the unknown with this volatile young woman, so he’d try to put that off as long as possible. Time for phase two.

“From what I can see here, the generator isn’t going to be strong enough to get the burst we’ll need for the initial bounce. Looks like he was considering some other options. I’d go with car batteries. If we had four of them and jumper cables I could jury-rig a super battery. Is there somewhere around here where you could get that many batteries?”

“Leroy, the mechanic in town might have four. Otherwise, there’s a Sears about an hour away.”

Luna returned with the glass of water. She set it on the desk then returned to her couch.

Allen reached for it with a shaky hand and knocked it over. “Damn it!” He wiped his arm across the desk, brushing most of the papers away from the approaching river and on to the floor next to Quinn.

“Stupid!” Celeste used the bottom of her shirt to sop up the water. “Luna, get a towel!”

Allen bent down on the pretext of retrieving the “saved” documents but while he was down there, he pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket, opened it under cover of the pages then slipped it to Quinn. The surprised look on the Captain’s face would have been a proud moment for Allen if he wasn’t so terrified of getting caught. He wasn’t naturally devious, but Blue Book had taught him all kinds of weird and not so wonderful skills.

When he stood back up, Luna had dried off the desk and all was back to where it was prior to the incident with one important exception. He sat down again and got to work on phase three.

 

Two hours.

Allen kept faux working, risking a glance at Quinn now and then for some sign that he was free. Every time he was greeted with a shake of the head and once, when Quinn shifted to a more comfortable position, Allen saw a blood smear on the floor.

At two hours and fifteen minutes, Quinn finally nodded to say it was done.   
  
Now all he had to do was get Celeste out of the house.

“I’ve got it!” Hynek said hoping his enthusiasm sounded convincing. “His math was dead on, but it was the boost, just like I thought. He wasn’t getting enough power to magnify the beam.”

Celeste came running over to the desk and for a half a second, Allen considered making a grab for the gun in her waistband – end all of this right now. But there was a second gun in the room, so he convinced himself it was rational thinking not cowardice that kept him from trying.

He started writing frantically in the empty notebook then ripped out the page and handed it to Celeste.

“This is what I need. The batteries like we talked about and four sets of jumper cables so we can connect them to the power supply. I’ll also need some chemicals to create a magnification liquid.” He rattled off some chemical compounds that weren’t even close to what he was after, hoping that he’d confuse her, which he did.

“There’s no store around here that will understand a chemical formula. I need specifics.”

“Of course, forgive me. I’m used to speaking science. . . “ He pretended to think. Took back the list from her and added three more items. “A large bottle of household bleach will work and plain old vinegar like you use in salad, but several bottles, the biggest you can find.”

“Vinegar?” She sounded doubtful.

“Haven’t you ever used vinegar to clean the windows or other glass objects? It does an incredible job of breaking down any film and making glass squeaky clean. That’s the first step in magnification. So we’ll also need a large glass container. A fish bowl would be perfect. Can you get all that?”

“Sure, this is all easy stuff. And that’s it?”

“Yes, assuming that the machine he created is in good working order. From Neirin’s notes, it appears that he got as far as building the beacon, he just couldn’t conquer the distance issue.”

Celeste was going for it. “That’s right. The machine is in the shed and I’ve seen it work but like you said, it’s not strong enough to project a beam higher than the house roofline.”

“Power boost, magnification liquid – it should work.”

Allen held his breath knowing this was the make it or break it moment.

“Fantastic.” Celeste stuffed the shopping list into her pants pocket then went into what he assumed was the bedroom for her handbag and coat. But that wasn’t all she was carrying when she returned. She also had a coil of clothesline in her hands. “Put you hands behind the chair.”

“Is that really necessary? I have more work to do. Calculations.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you but. . . . well, I don’t trust you and I don’t trust my baby sister to keep you in check while I’m gone either. So. . . hands.”

An irrational fear rose up in Hynek’s chest. The game wasn’t lost. Quinn was loose and would take out Luna as soon as her sister was gone. As long as Celeste didn’t decide to check on Quinn’s bonds before leaving.

Reluctant but out of options, Allen wrapped his arms around the back of the chair. Another new experience thanks to Project Blue Book.

Celeste make quick work of tying his wrists then she grabbed her coat and handbag. “Luna, focus. Keep an eye on them both while I’m gone.”

“I will. I will. Just go already and pick us up something to eat while you’re out. I’m hungry.”

Celeste had the front door open when she turned back and stared at Quinn. Did she suspect? Did she know? Allen silently willed her to leave and then she did.

 

Quinn waited until he heard a car start and pull away before making his next move. He had planned to ask Luna for a glass of water but when he saw her dig out a pack of cigarettes from behind a book in the bookcase he changed his mind. He hadn’t had a smoke since this whole escapade began and just seeing her light-up made him jumpy.

“You hiding those from your sister?”

Luna lit the smoke and took a long drag. “She thinks I’m a baby so I can only indulge when she’s not around.”

“How about sharing that with me?” Quinn asked, his own cravings coming through loud and clear. “I’m usually two packs in about now and I’m dying.”

“2 packs. I’m not that bad and good thing because I doubt they smoke on Deimos’ planet.”

“Probably not, so I’d be happy to finish that one for you if you want practice giving them up.”

She stared at him while taking another drag, then made her decision. She left the gun on the coffee table (yes!), grabbed a kitchen chair and set it up next to Quinn. He inhaled her exhaled smoke and felt the smallest rush. He could reach up and grab her now but the urge to smoke was winning the battle with common sense.

Luna held the cigarette between two fingers, then leaned forward in the chair so she could touch the end to his lips.

Another ‘should grab her’ moment, but Quinn took the nicotine hit first. Almost waited for her to take a puff then give it back to him like kids sharing a forbidden smoke in the clubhouse. Almost, but sense kicked in and he grabbed her by the wrists.

She was understandably shocked by the move. He expected her to try and pull away which would give him the leverage he needed to get to his feet. But she didn’t pull, she fell forward, knocking him back and off balance. The lit cigarette in her hand caught him in the neck and he instinctively let go of her to brush away the burn and that gave her room to twist her body and put space between them.

Still holding one of her wrists, Quinn struggled to regain his forward motion, got his legs under him and started to rise. She grabbed the back of the wooden kitchen chair with her free hand and swung at him. It registered in his peripheral vision when it was too late to duck. The chair caught him just above the right eye and scraped across his temple. The pain was explosive. He tried to remain standing, but his legs weren’t having it. He ended up on his hands and knees, gasping for breath, cursing through the stabbing pain.

He was vaguely aware of Hynek’s voice and there was a part of his brain that thought Luna might be going for the gun. But no. He felt her near him. A small shove and he was flat out on the floor. Blood was dripping down his face and into one eye, not that he could focus anyway. It was as if his brain was dedicated to nothing but quelling the waves of pain and nausea.

Luna pulled one arm behind his back and wrapped his wrist in something silky smooth. Then the other wrist. Damn it. Their one chance – blown, because he’d under estimated her. Fatal mistake noted.

It was all over in under two minutes. He was back to sitting against the wall, hands tied behind him and a raging headache.

Shit.

“Talk to me!” Hynek.

Quinn thought he was replying but he couldn’t hear his own voice.

What was that phrase? To hell in a handbasket. Stupid idiom but right now, it was the perfect fit.


	3. Science Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping up another one. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

Allen could only watch as the whole thing went upside down. His first thought was that they’d lost their one and only chance at escape while Celeste was gone. Then there was a tiny bit of hope when Quinn was on his hands and knees – as if he might shake it off and take Luna down.

But that didn’t happen. When Luna pushed him flat, his head turned revealing why it wasn’t going to happen – there was a long, deep gash running from his eyebrow back to his temple and it was bleeding profusely.

Luna had surprised them both with her quick thinking and burst of strength. She’d been so quiet and timid up until that point. It’s as if a different Luna appeared when her sister was gone. Not only had she royally clocked Quinn, but she had the presence of mind to tie his hands again, this time with the necktie that had come loose in the struggle.

Once she had him back to the wall, she collapsed on the floor herself, shaking and breathing heavily. Adrenaline drop.

“Michael! Talk to me.”

Quinn’s lips moved but no sound came out. The side of his face was streaked with blood and he was swaying slightly as if he couldn’t find his center.

Not good.

“Luna. He needs help. I need to stop the bleeding. Please, cut me loose. I promise I won’t try anything. You can stand across the room with the gun on me if it makes you feel better. Just let me help him.”

She stood, swaying a bit herself. She stepped closer to Quinn, stooped down and gently touched her fingers to his bloody cheek. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, but when he grabbed me. . .” She saw something on the floor. Scooped it up.

“I understand. He frightened you and you fought back. If you didn’t mean to hurt him, let me help him. Do you have a first aid kit?”

She nodded, eyes still on Quinn.

“Get it and a bowl of water and some clean towels if you have them. Also, a sewing kit.”

“Wait,” Quinn making actual word sounds. “I was good ‘til that last part. Sewing?”

Allen felt a rush of relief. If he was alert enough to complain he probably didn’t have a fractured skull. His relief deepened when Luna went to get the items he’d asked for.

“I need to clean up the wound first, but from here, that cut looks pretty deep.”

Quinn huffed, “that’s good because from here it looks like applesauce and penguins.”

“That makes no sense.”

“I am aware.” Quinn tried to lift his hand to brush the blood from his eye; an automatic response to the liquid intrusion but his arm didn’t move. He shifted and growled and knocked his head back against the wall in a fit of frustration.

“Don’t do that,” Allen said firmly. “Just, take it easy. I’m going to fix you up. Just hang on.”

Luna returned with the water, towels, and the sewing kit from the kitchen. She set everything on the floor next to Quinn then retrieved the first aid kit from the bedroom. She also retrieved the gun.

“I’m going to cut you loose,” she said to Allen. “Remember, you promised, no tricks. I will shoot you if you try anything.”

He didn’t think she would, but nervous hands and a hair-trigger weren’t a good combination.

“I promise. I just want to make sure he’s alright. Then I’ll go back to work on the beacon. You have my word.”

She used Hynek’s own pocket knife – scooped from the floor – to cut him free. As soon as he felt the restraints give, he dropped down to Quinn’s side.

It wasn’t so much the sight of blood that upset Allen but the sight of Quinn’s blood that made him sick. He’d been fond of the young pilot since their first meeting when Quinn persuaded him to join Blue Book by using his own intelligence against him. And then there was that wry smile that showed up when he knew you knew he was playing you, but you let him do it anyway. But as the months went by and the cases piled on and the circle of trust tightened, ‘fond of’ had turned into friendship which had, in recent months, turned into something more.

As learned as Allen once, he didn’t have a word for the attachment he now felt to the man he thought of as his best friend and partner. It was akin to the feelings some people have with a sibling – a bond forged from blood. But that wasn’t quite right in this case. It wasn’t familial, not brother or fatherly. He wasn’t quite old enough to be Quinn’s father but there was no denying the distance between their ages and by extension, their experiences. Sometimes it felt like a million years between them, like that afternoon at the University with Quinn chatting up the co-eds. Other times, like the bar fight in Huntsville, it was as if they’d been cut from the same cloth. Allen had given up a flight home in order to check up on the despondent pilot. And now looking out for each other almost always took precedence over everything else – including family.

Family. . . .

Allen shook that thought away. Focus.

He dipped a towel in the bowl of water and gently patted the area around the wound. Quinn flinched and pulled away which wouldn’t do, so Allen held him by the chin as he washed away most of the blood.

“Hold still.” He washed and wiped, removing most of the bloody tracks but the wound was still oozing, so he tried pure pressure. Again, Quinn flinched and tried to pull away, but Allen held on. “Sorry, but I have to stop the bleeding.”

“So stupid,” Quinn muttered. “I should have hit her. Knocked her out. I just. . . “

“It’s just that you didn’t want to hit a girl. I understand.” The towel was turning red in his hand. Damn it.

Allen abandoned the towel and went for gauze and antiseptic. “This is going to sting.”

“Good cause my head doesn’t hurt enough already.”

Sarcasm was a good sign. He soaked the gauze in the antiseptic then touched it lightly to the wound. Quinn jumped and gasped, more than expected from just an antiseptic bite.

“Feels like something. . . “ Was all Quinn could manage around a moan and gasp for breath.

What the hell? Allen got on his knees and scooted closer for a better look. And there was the problem. “A couple of wood splinters. They’re digging in when I press on the wound.”

“Wonderful,” said Quinn.

Allen gave his friend’s shoulder a pat then went back to the first aid kit for a pair of tweezers. “Can you understand what I’m saying,” he said softly as he plucked bits of wood from the wound.

“Yes and ow.”

“Sorry. Just a couple more. What you said to Celeste, about accepting death, did you mean it?”

“I did. I do. I landed in some pretty fucked up situations during the war and that whole exercise –– that’s what kept me sane.”

“You just stop being afraid of dying. That’s not possible, it’s not in our nature. We’re bred to survive.”

“You’re taking it to literal.” Only that last word came out a bit slurred as it mixed with another gasp. “You’re always afraid but if you let it take over, you’re screwed. You can’t think straight so you miss your chance to get away. And if you do die, you spent those last hours miserable, panicked. It’s just better – easier when you let go.”

Allen sat back down on his heels and met Quinn’s gaze. The clarity he normally saw there was gone, and it terrified him to the core. He wrapped his hand around Quinn’s upper arm and squeezed. “If that’s what you need to do, okay as long as. . . “ Allen swallowed hard. “As long as letting go doesn’t mean. . . “ How to say it. . .  “doesn’t mean actually letting go. Cause I’m not ready for this to be over.”

Quinn nodded slightly. “I hear you. Now can we get this sewing thing out of the way?”

Allen laughed under his breath. “You’re not afraid to die but you’re afraid of needles? The bleeding has slowed down. I think we can pass on the sewing.” He poured antiseptic on the last fresh gauze from the first aid kit and gave the wound another gentle wipe. Quinn didn’t even flinch this time. He was fading.

“Doc.”

“I’m here.”

“Ask her about her brother.”

That was unexpected. “Her brother?”

Quinn’s chin tipped to his chest then jolted up. “Ask her about him.”

Allen exchanged the bloody gauze for a large bandage and first aid tape. “Luna,” He glanced back at her just to see where she was. On the couch again with the gun loosely in her hand. “What happened to your brother?”

No hesitation. “I think Celeste killed him.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Quinn mumbled. “We have to get out of here.”

“I’m working on it,” Allen reassured, then to Luna he said, “Why do you think that?”

“He wouldn’t leave me without saying goodbye. They were fighting, Nierin and Celeste. He was having his doubts about the beacon and Deimos, all of it. He wanted to call you. She said no. They went out back to the shed to try the machine and she came back without him. She told me that story she told you. I knew it wasn’t true, but it was easier to believe than think she could have done such a thing. But in my heart, I know he’s dead.” She sighed and stretched out on the couch, eyes to the ceiling again. “I think I know that Deimos isn’t coming either. She’ll probably kill us all.”

“Then let’s go. Now,” said Allen, getting to his feet. “You can come with us. You’ll be safe.”

Luna rolled up to sitting, then gun waving vaguely in Quinn’s direction. Without conscience thought, he moved into the line of fire, blocking Quinn. He calculated his chances of grabbing the gun without it going off. Not so good. He could throw the remains of the broken chair at her and make it to the door – but not with Quinn. Odds or not, he decided that was the thing to do. Allen tried to make the turn look natural, like he was just wandering back to the desk, then he grabbed the chair and –

“Put it down!”

Celeste. Jesus! What was she, a cat in a former life?

Allen dropped the chair as he pondered what he’d done in life to have such rotten luck.

“Back so soon?” Not as snarky as Quinn but Allen was pleased with the attempt.

“I gave your list to Leroy at the gas station. He’s going to do the shopping and deliver it.” Celeste closed the front door behind her and leaned back into it. Gun in hand, of course. “What the hell happened here? Little party while I was gone?”

Strong Luna reverted instantly to babbling, little girl Luna. “Quinn got loose but I didn’t know. He lured me over asking for a smoke and I thought, what’s the harm? So, I brought him a cigarette and he grabbed me and I hit him – with the chair.”

Celeste stepped closer, waving the gun at Allen to counter backwards to keep the distance between them. “You got him good. But then you felt bad, right? Guilty conscience. Let the Professor loose so he could help his friend. Boo hoo, poor hurt baby? Men. They’re all like – I don’t care. I don’t have emotions, I’m tough until it works in their favor, then all of a sudden they know how to beg, know how to turn on the charm and make you do things you know you shouldn’t but they get you feeling all gooey inside and you don’t know that they’re laughing at you.”

She was ramping up fast.

Allen countered again, putting himself between her and Quinn figuring that would be her easy target. Instead she went for Luna. She fisted her hand in her sister’s long hair, yanked her head back and pressed the gun barrel to the underside of her chin.

It was a like a war flashback for Allen and he knew what he had to do.

Rip. Rip. Rip.

Celeste whirled, gun lowering but hair still in hand. “What are you doing?”

Allen continued ripping until the page was a snow storm of bits. “If you’re going to kill us all then why am I bothering with this beacon? Where’s the incentive? I’m supposed to be rewarded for doing a favor. That’s what it is, you know, not a demand, a favor because if I say no, if you shoot me, there’s not another astrophysicist within 1000 miles who can take my place. So, I’m doing what I should have done from the beginning. I’m taking charge, starting with the destruction of everything your brother created.”

She aimed the gun at him and Allen saw his life flash before his eyes – a few good moments, some boring, some not so nice – stand your ground. Make peace with it. He tried. He really tried.

“Here’s what happens next.” Wow, the ability to speak clearly  - amazing. “I’m going to stop ripping up your brother’s work and I’m going to finish the calculations to find the optimal time for the beam. I need to know the alignment of the stars before I can program the trajectory.” Mostly gobble-de-gook, but it sounded good. “Then, it’s quid pro quo.”  

“What?”

He was confusing her with babble, and it had the desired effect. She let go of Luna, lowered the gun.

“I’ll do something for you, then you’ll do something for me. We keep going that way until the beam is active and then you let us go.” He didn’t believe that last part for a second, but it worked better if she thought he believed. “It’ll be dark in a couple of hours, so I need to get to work.”

Then Allen did the hardest thing he’d had to do in a long while, he turned his back on the gun. He accepted that she wasn’t going to shoot. He stooped down beside Quinn, checked that the bandage was holding then laid a warm hand on his friend’s chest. Quinn’s eyes were closed but he wasn’t out cold. “Stay with me. Just a little longer.”

Reluctantly, he stood and returned to the desk. He didn’t really need to make calculations, but it was part of the show. He scribbled formulas and diagrams all over three pages for a good fifteen minutes. Wrote 7:13 and circled it as if that was the found answer. Then declared it done.

“I hope your friend delivers the goods soon. We have a small window when the stars will be in perfect alignment and we haven’t even tested the machine yet.” He flipped over one of the pages and drew a quick diagram. “Here’s the set up.”

Celeste came over to the desk.

The drawing showed a square labeled ‘machine’ – there were four smaller squares labeled ‘batteries’ around it with cables hooking them all together. There was a table in front of the machine square with a half circle labeled ‘fishbowl’. Then dotted ‘light’ lines went from the machine through the fishbowl and up to the sky. He’d made the lines darker after the passed ‘through’ the bowl to demonstrate magnification.

“And it’s going to work?” Celeste asked.

“If my math is correct it will.”

“If you want, I can double check it for you.” Quinn. Eyes barely open, the tiniest of smiles on his lips.

“Maybe later.” As bad as it all was, Allen felt a smile grace his lips, too. “That was the give, now it’s time for the take,” he said to Celeste, using Quinn’s vernacular rather than his own. Without asking permission, Allen took Quinn by the arm and helped him to his feet. He untied Quinn’s hands then walked him to the couch where he scooted Luna out of the way.

Pillow under his head, blanket over his body. Quinn visibly relaxed into the soft cushions.

“I’m going to make us some food,” Luna said as she toddled off to the kitchen.

“Do you want something to eat?” Allen asked Quinn as he examined the head wound then refastened the bandage.

“My stomach says no. Something to drink, maybe. Bourbon?” He blinked a few times, forcing his lids wider with each motion. Trying to focus. “Is the room actually spinning?”

“Like a top,” said Allen. “And no on the Bourbon. We have a couple of hours to pass before launch time, close your eyes and try to sleep.” Allen took a step, felt a hand bump his leg, then Quinn had hold of his wrist.

“Stay here for a little, will you?” Quinn turned on his side tight up against the back of the couch, leaving just enough room for Allen to perch on the edge. “I’m planning to pass out, really soon,” he said sloppily. “So, I won’t know if you leave after that.”

“I won’t leave.” Allen adjusted and twisted trying to find a more comfortable way to sit without leaning against his partner but there really wasn’t one. And he really didn’t want one. The next two hours were going to be excruciating – especially having to endure them without his partner’s glib words and surprising expressions. He laid his arm the only place he could lay it, across Quinn’s blanket-covered hip. A moment later, Quinn’s arm shifted and came to rest across Allen’s lap.

“Doc?” Quinn said softly. “You got this?”

He wasn’t sure he did but responding with confidence was one of the new things he’d learned from Quinn over the past few months. Well, accepting death had worked, so why not? “Don’t worry. I got this.”

 

#  # # #

Leroy arrived with the extra batteries and other supplies an hour later. In between, Luna had whipped up some sandwiches, but Allen was too keyed up to eat even though it had been nearly a full day since he’d had anything.

Quinn fell asleep about twenty minutes into the hour. After that, Allen switched to the rocking chair beside the couch. Sitting propped on the edge of the cushions was playing havoc with his back. And though he had promised not to leave, he’d have to soon enough.

The final phase of his plan was rapidly approaching and he was starting to have doubts. He scolded himself for the mental faltering. Taking charge had worked and he only wished he had done it sooner – might have saved Quinn from so much pain.

But a smack on the head was nothing compared to a bullet in the chest and that was in both of their futures if he didn’t get this right.

Celeste had taken up a position by the front window, surreptitiously peering out through the curtains, first watching for Leroy, then watching for him to leave.

“He’s gone. Let’s go, professor.”

Showtime.

Allen stood and stretched, briefly considered waking Quinn as he said he would but decided against it. If this went sideways it might be best if he didn’t see the bullet coming. That was no way to think. But Allen still felt a sharp pain in his chest when he looked at his partner, his best friend, for what could be the very last time.

When he turned back, Luna was right in front of him, her eyes glazing over with unshed tears. Thinking of her brother, he suspected. Remember his last trip out of the house with Celeste. “Make it work. For all of us, Professor. Make it work.”

“That’s the plan.” Allen left the house with Celeste following behind. The gun was back in her waistband since both of them knew she wasn’t going to shoot him now, not when there were this close. Well. . . as long as he was working toward the goal that is. He suspected she wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if he ran for it or told her that the entire setup was bogus.

She used a key to open the padlock on the shed door and Allen got his first look at the trailblazing, space beacon. It reminded him of a small version of the contraption the foo fighter boys had built to talk to the aliens. Same concept really, except their machine sent audio signals while Nierin’s machine was all about light.

The machine was on a rolling cart which made it simpler but not easy to move out of the shed and on to the lawn. He found a stool in the shed which would work for his purposes, placed that a few yards from the machine and set the fish bowl (newly purchased from Sears) on the stool. He hooked up the batteries to power the machine, tested it and got a beam of light that could be raised or lowered by moving the telescope-like lens on the front.

Finally, he filled the fish bowl half way with bleach.

“Now, this is important. To get the magnification just right you’ll need to pour the vinegar into the bowl while I adjust the light.”

“Why?”

“Because the vinegar is going to change the viscosity which will either increase or decrease the magnification. See that lip around the bowl. You want to add the vinegar slowly until it reaches that level.” Allen stood behind the machine and aimed the light at the lower end of the fishbowl. “See how it’s not magnifying yet. Start pouring the vinegar while I adjust the stream and keep a close eye on the liquid if you see it going cloudy we’ll have to start over.” So much nonsense but it didn’t matter as long as she didn’t question his instructions.

He took a deep breath, then ducked down behind the machine on the pretext of adjusting the dials.

Celeste poured and within seconds, a noxious cloud rose up from the bowl. It attacked her eyes and nostrils. She began to gasp and wheeze. “What have you –” She pulled her gun and blindly shot bullet after bullet in Allen’s general direction. Only he wasn’t where he had been so the bullets riddled the beacon machine, smashing the lens and the bulb.

Allen was quite proud of himself until a bullet hit one of the car batteries. The explosion knocked him off his feet and drove the breath out of his lungs. There was a moment of sheet panic when he thought his lungs had burst but then he felt the trickle of oxygen and then a little more. His ears were ringing and his first thought – oddly – was that he and Quinn were going to have matching headaches.

Celeste was on the ground only a few feet away, suffering from the same lack of oxygen made worse by the chlorine gas sting in her nose and throat. He thought he’d be happy seeing her suffering so, but no. Damn it.

Allen struggled to his feet, grabbed Celeste under the arms and dragged her closer to the house. He’d seen a garden hose hooked up to a faucet. He dropped her nearby, turned on the water than used it to irrigate her burning eyes and face.

When she was breathing more naturally, he tore off his necktie and used it to secure her hands behind her. Situation under control. Or so he hoped. There was one other wild card in play but he was fairly sure the card wouldn’t be used against them.

 

#  #  #

Quinn startled awake at the sound of gun shots. He had no doubt as to the origin of the sound and when he saw that Hynek wasn’t in the room, he had no doubt about who was getting shot at. Then he heard the explosion and his heart sank even further.

Quinn got to his feet too quickly and almost toppled over as the floor pitched and the walls moved. And there was Luna with the gun but instead of pointing the barrel at him, she was offering him the grip. He took it, hoping that straight shooting wouldn’t be required.

They both ran out in to the yard and arrived in time to see Hynek getting control of Celeste.

“What the hell, doc?”

Hynek got to his feet and wavered as much as Quinn but he had this crazy grin on his face. “Bleach and vinegar mixed together in the proper proportions creates chlorine gas. Burns the eyes and the lungs. Disabled her in an instant.”

“And the explosion?”

Hynek twisted his lips in thought. “That wasn’t supposed to happen but still, I saved us with science!”

“Oh god,” Quinn moaned. “I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?”

 

#  #  #

 

It was almost 10 am when Quinn woke up, which was late for him. It took a minute to remember what state he was in and that he was in a motel. Another minute for all of the events of the previous day to flood over him. He sat up slowly and was glad to see the walls were staying put. What he didn’t see was Hynek.

There was a note on the bedside table in the Professor’s scrawl. “Be back soon.” So much for the details.

Quinn showered and was surprised by the amount of blood that came out of his hair and off his skin. He shaved, dressed in the last of the clean clothes, then used the head wound as a sympathy play to get the maid to bring him breakfast from a nearby diner.

He was almost finished eating when Hynek returned.   
  
“Where have you been?” Quinn set down his coffee and picked up a lit cigarette. After a full day deprived, he’d already gone through more than usual.

“Sheriff’s office. He had questions and so did I.” Hynek shrugged out of his coat and sat down on the foot of the bed nearest the table where Quinn was eating.

“You should have woken me up, I would have gone with you.”

“You were flat out asleep, I thought you could use the rest. Looks like it helped.”

“That and a shower, a smoke and breakfast. I didn’t get you any because I had no idea when you’d be back, or where you had gone. . . “ The point hung in the air for a moment before Hynek picked up on it.

“I guess I should start writing more comprehensive notes before I leave.” He sighed, a deep frown darkening his face. “They found the brother’s body so now it’s murder charges for Celeste. Luna’s looking at kidnapping, accessory to murder, maybe.” He shook his head. “I also discovered why I couldn’t remember Nierin being in my class, because that’s not his name. All of the celestial names were nicknames Celeste devised when she got on this spaceman kick. Oh, and the law is familiar with this Deimos fellow, he’s a con man who convinces people to pay him for a trip to his home planet.” Allen faded off.

“Nierin,” Quinn prompted.

“Oh, yes. Nathanial Winter, that’s his real name and I remember him very well. He was special. He saw things in ways most people can’t. He would have done great things and I was sorry to see him leave school. I can’t believe . . .” Hynek dropped his eyes to the floor. “Wasting a brilliant mind like that, it’s a tragedy.”

“Yes, it is.” Quinn waited a moment to regain his attention and when it didn’t happen, he rapped his knuckles on the table in a quick knock knock.

Hynek looked up, the frown still distorting his face.

“You did good, Doc. I worry about you. This isn’t what you signed up for so when I get on you to stay put or follow my orders, it’s only because I’m trying to keep you safe. But you did good.”

Finally, a smile. “And I saved us with science!”

“You’re not going to stop saying that, are you?”

“Not until the fun wears off.”

Quinn laughed softly as he reached for his cigarette. Hynek never ceased to surprise him with these sudden bursts of glee. “How about a little quid pro quo of my own. I’ve been teaching you how to handle yourself in the field and it looks like it’s working.”

“I had a good teacher,” Hynek said and it was 100% sincere.

“Next Thursday, you’re teaching, right? I’ll be there in the front row ready to learn some science.”

“I’d like that. Only come Tuesday not Thursday.”

“Why?” asked Quinn.

“Because Thursday is my advanced class. Tuesday is for beginners.” Allen wearily got to his feet. “I’m going to pack up. We’ve got a long drive home.” As he walked by the table, Quinn reached out and caught his wrist as he’d done the day before. It sent an instant wave of concern through Hynek’s body. He stopped and gave his partner his full attention – minus the few seconds of lingering on the clean but raw wound above his eye.

“Doc, I’m not kidding. There were a half a dozen times yesterday when either one of us could have been shot or killed. But you handled this. You got the knife to me. You got Celeste out of the house. I blew it with Luna, my fault. You made a plan and executed it almost perfectly all while looking out for me. You did better than good. I’m proud of you.”

Hynek smiled and leaned in a little. “I saved us with science.”

Quinn tossed Hynek’s arm aside. “I take it all back. I hate you.”

“I’m going to have that printed on a bumper sticker, maybe a t-shirt and hand them out to everyone on the base. I saved us with science.”

Quinn hid the smile until Hynek disappeared into the bathroom, then he let it take over his whole body. They were good together and he sincerely, desperately hoped, it would never end.

 

The End.

 

 

 

 


End file.
